


Nose Dive

by BlackCatula



Category: Chowder (Cartoon)
Genre: Comedy, Cooking puns, F/M, Lost a Bet, One Shot, SO MANY COOKING PUNS, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCatula/pseuds/BlackCatula
Summary: Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Mung Daal must answer for trespassing on Endive's property. Not content to simply call the police on him, Endive decides humiliation is a more fitting punishment, and challenges Mung to a bet she knows he'll lose. The stakes? If--no, WHEN he loses--Endive will force him to "eat out", whatever that means. Meanwhile, peeping tom Panini has a miniature crisis over the way she's been treating Chowder.I hope you like cooking puns.(Written entirely in the style of the show! Yes I know nobody goes on AO3 to read goofy sex comedies for vaguely-popular cartoons that ended over 8 years ago, but that didn't stop me from laughing at my own dumb ideas and here it is for you to enjoy just the same!)





	Nose Dive

"Woman, you're NUTS!" said the chef most indignantly, levelling the business end of his bony finger at his meaty opponent. "I'll crack any challenge your nutty brains can throw at me or die trying! And heaven knows I should have been DEAD from trying years ago!"

"Then I hope you've made your final peace," his nemesis replied, her menacing voice rumbling like a voluptuous mountain nearing eruption. "And when you do die, please don't do it on the linoleum, I just had it cleaned." 

"Hrmph," was all he could respond with. "Alright, what are the stakes?" 

Her horrible grin, rimmed in ferocious red lipstick, frightened him. "If, by chance, you should somehow, miraculously, win this little challenge...I'll drop the charges and WON'T have you and your little moppet arrested for trespassing and theft of personal property." 

The chef couldn't help but toss a glare over his shoulder at the moppet in question, who - having already surrendered the lasagna recipe they had been attempting to "borrow" - was currently fishing around in his pockets for a snack. He replied, warily, "...and if I lose it's another night in the slammer, got it, fine, sure." 

"Oh, that's rich," she purred, stealing back his attention. "...but I actually had something quite different in mind for this particular punishment." 

Mung blinked. "...what, you're just gonna straight-up kill me?" 

"No, Mung..." Endive said with an impatient sigh. "When I've caught you with your hand in my proverbial cookie jar, and managed to secure you firmly by the proverbial meatballs...Murder isn't quite on the same burner as Extreme Humiliation." 

"Well it might as well be..." he grumbled distastefully, crossing his arms. He turned his head away to give her a sideways glare. "So you gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to guess?" 

Devilishly delighted, Endive's grin widened. "When I beat you, I'm going to savor the look on your face as I take you...to eat out." 

Compulsively, Mung made a face. "Eat out? Me? Disgusting. I swear, Endive, as a chef, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! Eating out...puh! The very thought of it makes me wanna hurl all over your precious linoleum!" 

"And you say I'M the disgusting one," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "But, I suppose if you'd rather just spend the night in prison...". 

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped back, straightening his spine to puff out what little chest he had. "I never back down from a challenge! My chef's honor forbids it!" 

The grin returned once again. "I was counting on that. Very well, then, let's get to business. Panini!" 

Appearing on cue like a trained butler, Endive's tiny apprentice materialized from behind her, hand raised in salute. "Yes, Miss Endive?" 

"Bring me two liters of schmilk," she commanded, still unsure where exactly her apprentice had picked up that Butler's Camouflage ability. "And a mess bucket. But not the good one." 

"Roger, ma'am." Panini rushed off to do exactly as she was told, but managed to send a sparkling wink across the room to the only other apprentice in the room as she passed by him. Chowder hissed back at her and shielded his face with hands to block out any imaginary glitter sparkles that might have been headed his way. 

"I trust someone even at your level of competence has heard of the Schmilk challenge," Endive continued, retraining her focus on her opponent. 

"Heard of it?" Mung scoffed, hands on his hips. "Of course I've heard of it! Used to be the champion! Y'know, back when they invented it, ten years ago!" 

"Yeah, get with the times, Endive!" Chowder shouted behind him, in an effort to feel included. 

"Mhmm," she nodded, very thoroughly convinced he was absolutely speaking the bonafide truth. "Can't wait to see the ten-year champion in action, then." 

"Of course, ten years is a long time," said Mung, cracking his fingers and stretching his arms. "They've probably changed the rules since I was king. You should probably remind me how the kids play it these days." 

"It's a simple chugging contest, Mung," she answered plainly as Panini carted in two full jugs of a thick, off-white liquid. "Down as much schmilk as you can without puking and you win." 

Eyeing the jugs with an eager but cautious eye, Chowder piped up. "Ooh! Mung, you should let me do it! Chugging is totally my passion!" 

There was the slightest hesitation before Mung responded, as if he'd actually briefly considered the idea. "...no, Chowder, I'm afraid this is my battle today. My very chef's honor is on the line here!" 

He leaned in and added from the side of his mouth, "...plus, last time you drank that much schmilk, you stank up the whole restaurant with your nasty tooty-booty, and we're not going through that again." 

Chowder shivered at the memory of waking up to the sight of Truffles hovering above him in nothing but a nightie and a gas mask. "...okay, Mung. Make me proud!" 

"Come on, we haven't got all day," said Endive, picking a stray piece of lint from her dress and flicking it at him. 

With a harumph, Mung took his place beside Endive, grabbed his jug of schmilk from the cart, and tried to stand as tall and proud as a silver fox with a young apprentice watching him go through a midlife crisis in real time could stand. For all his talk of honor and dignity, he knew he really had none to speak of, but he also knew on some level that teaching that to his young ward was simply a recipe for disaster. 

"...alright then, Endive. I hope you're ready to lose." 

Endive hummed a note that might almost have been a chuckle if she'd put any effort into it. Her confidence could almost be mistaken for boredom, as if downing an entire gallon of schmilk was merely a formality at this point. Mung could only pray she was wrong. 

"Count us in, Panini." 

"Yes ma'am," said the ever-obedient apprentice, moving the cart out of the way. She paused, looked up at Mung for a moment, then inched the bucket a little closer to him with her foot before moving clear of the predicted blast zone. 

Hmm, nice touch, Endive noted. I'm rubbing off on her better than I realized… 

"Mark!" shouted Panini, hand raised. 

Both jugs raised. Mung licked his lips. 

"Set!" 

Chowder's eyes darted back and forth between Panini's hand, Mung's quivering knees, and Endive's bemused smirk. 

"Chug!" 

The jugs went bottom up and the room filled with nothing but the muted sounds of loud gulping. 

...followed immediately by a gurgle and a gasp from Mung. He dropped the jug and dove straight for the bucket, making horrible noises all the while. Panini quickly snatched up the jug and capped it before it made too big a mess, and smiled proudly at her expert bucket placement. 

"Oh no, what happened, Mung?" Chowder rushed over to pat his master's back. 

Mung's head finally emerged from the bucket. "What was I thinking?! I'm ALLERGIC to schmilk!" 

"Does that mean you lost?" 

"...not if Endive can't keep HERS down," he challenged, looking up at her expectantly. 

Calmly, and without a hint of indigestion or reaction, Endive opened one eye and held his gaze as she finished the entire contents of the jug, wiped her mouth and handed it to her assistant. 

Before anyone could even break the silence, she then reached over and took Mung's unfinished jug and began downing that one as well. 

"Alright, fine, you've made your point." Mung pushed himself back up to his feet and brushed off his kilt. "Much as it pains me to say so, you've won, Endive. So I'll just, y'know, pay the trespassing charges and we'll all just forget this ever happened, right?" 

Lowering the empty jug, Endive pressed two fingers to her lips to politely stifle a huge belch, then settled back into her unnerving grin. "That wasn't the deal, Mung Daal." 

"I know, I was...just hoping you'd forget," he sighed, deflating slowly. "Alright, fine, I won't have my honor tarnished in front of the boy. I'll face up to this punishment with whatever dignity and grace I can still muster." 

Chowder tilted his head. "...isn't this the part where we usually jump out the window and run away?" 

"Oh don't worry," said Endive, nodding to her assistant. "We came prepared today." 

At the push of a button on a tiny remote that Panini had mysteriously produced from some hidden crevice within her pocketless frill neck dress, iron bars clanged menacingly into place across all the windows in the room. 

"We're trapped!" Chowder screamed, hiding inside his oversized hat. 

"What's with the bars?" asked Mung, throwing a hand in the air. "I thought we were just about to leave so you could go and humiliate me by making me, gourmet chef that I am, eat out at some greasy public restaurant. That's what you said, isn't it?" 

Endive raised an eyebrow. "...perhaps you misunderstood me, Mung Daal. I didn't say I would take you out to eat. I said I'd make you...Eat. Out." 

The ignition in Mung's brain still stalled. "...AND you're gonna make me pay? Woman, you are straight out of your gourd if you think I have money for that sort of baloney!" 

"No, you old sausage," she groused, keeping him fixed in place with her gaze as she hiked up the hem of her dress just a bit. "I want you to EAT. OUT." 

...click. 

Mung's eyes grew wide. "...wha...I...have you gone mad?! Not in front of the boy!" 

Endive's smirk dissolved as she turned to look at Chowder, still cowering in his hat. And beside him, Panini, who tried very hard to look like she didn't have any questions on the whole situation. 

"...what are you kids still doing in here?" Endive finally said, coming to her senses. "Panini, take that little demon into the kitchen and make sure he doesn't leave, or empty the entire contents of the refrigerator or whatever." 

"...r-roger, Ma'am," Panini replied, somewhat weakly. She definitely had questions, but knew better than to press the issue. She took Chowder by the arm - despite his protesting - and dragged him into the kitchen behind her. 

Mung watched them go, silently praying he'd taught Chowder enough self-preservation skills to ward off the advances of his not-girlfriend, then turned to face his own tribulation. "So, Endive...it's come to this, has it?" 

She leaned on the reception counter and raised a devilish brow. "A bet's a bet, and a loss is a loss, Mung. You ARE a man of your honor, aren't you?" 

"Of course I am!" he retorted, puffing out his chest. "I just can't believe you'd stoop even to THIS low…". 

"Not as low as YOU'LL be stooping," she cackled. "Finally, I'll have brought you down as low as I've wanted you to be for YEARS…". 

Flustered, Mung scoffed back. "So you admit, you've wanted in on this action for years now, and THIS is the only way you could think to get it, huh? By playing dirty?" 

"Playing dirty indeed," she giggled. "How rich!" 

"Hmph." He furiously began unbutton his chef's smock, which he religiously never left home without, and eyed her levelly. "Well then I sure hope you didn't bite off more then you could chew!" 

Endive watched as he divested his wiry, hairy upper half of clothing and blinked. It was honestly nothing she hadn't seen before - she'd caught Mung relaxing topless in her private pool any number of times - but she hadn't expected him to be quite this bold. "...why Mung Daal, I have to say, I'm quite impressed." 

He paused. Shot her a puzzled look, then flexed his thin, leathery arm for her. "See something you like?" 

She rolled her eyes. "I honestly didn't expect this kind of initiative from you. Didn't think you'd be quite this eager for your punishment." 

"Well what choice do I have?" he fired back, tossing his smock to the floor. "I lost a bet and now I have to face the consequences, cause I can't afford to face the other consequences for not facing the first consequences!" 

There was a pause as Endive mentally worked through the math, silently counting on her fingers. Then she shrugged and continued, "...well, anything to save your precious chef's honor, I suppose. Right?" 

"Honor is all I have," Mung replied solemnly, fiddling with the buckles on his kilt. "Oh sure, Dignity is disposable, but Honor? That's permanent." 

Endive watched his fingers as they danced. She hadn't expected him to go all the way like this. Part of her started to say something, to ask why he was taking everything off if only his top half was needed, but another part of her felt that familiar hot rush pass through, and she stifled her response to watch the show unfurl instead. 

Catching her stare, he paused, fingers around the waistband. "Well Endive, I can't say this is my proudest moment...but at least I'll be able to say that I never backed out of a challenge I got myself into. So for your sake and mine, I hope your frying pan is ready for a sausage unlike any other!" 

Whipping off the last of his clothes, Endive had to admit, Mung Daal certainly sported a sausage unlike any other. She wasn't sure hair was supposed to grow that way, or that skin was supposed to wrinkle that way, but there it was, just the same. 

She chuckled back at him, "...I appreciate the show Mung, but you do realize we're not cooking sausage here, right?" 

Mung's face contorted like a question mark. 

Endive leaned in closer, looming over him. "Eating out means sampling the pie, not stirring the pot, you old raisin." 

The question mark became an exclamation mark as Mung gestured to his nudity. "...well ya coulda told me that before I got myself all peeled! I don't wanna be here any longer than I have to and risk having to explain any more bizarre cooking metaphors to Chowder!" 

"Then I suppose it's time to get on with the main course," Endive purred back, pulling up two chairs, one for each lump of her considerable rump. 

Mung took a deep breath like it might be his last and stooped to his knees. 

"I hope you like deep dish," Endive added with a sinister laugh as she hiked up her dress and slowly opened her legs. 

*****

Chowder, currently quaking with anxiety beneath the flimsy shelter of his hat, was having some difficulty coming to terms with how distracted his longtime romantic tormentor currently was. She was normally laser-focused on teasing and flirting with him any time he was remotely near her immediate vicinity, but from the moment she'd ushered him into the kitchen, she seemed uncharacteristically lost in thought. 

He nervously swallowed back his fear - which, incidentally, tasted like pickles - and bravely piped up, "...s-so what's gonna happen now?" 

To his surprise, Panini simply leaned against a sack of flour her own size and shook her head, fingers stroking some nonexistent beard. "I'm...not sure." 

That didn't seem right. "What do you mean you're not sure?" 

"Didn't you feel the atmosphere out there?" she replied, vaguely. "What is Miss Endive gonna do to him, exactly? And why can't we watch?" 

"She said they were gonna eat out," Chowder prompted, having paid attention to that part. "...but they never left. Did she change her mind or something?" 

"If all she was gonna do was humiliate him, why would she send us away?" she continued, not acknowledging him directly. "I've watched her humiliate him before, it's nothing new...what's different this time? What did she really mean by 'eat out', and why can't I see it?" 

"I got sent in here too, ya know," Chowder added glumly, feeling ignored. 

Panini finally turned to look at him, as if she'd forgotten he was there. "...that's right. She didn't want YOU to see either. Whatever she's doing to Mung, it's some kind of private humiliation...but what's the point of humiliating someone if no one else gets to see?" 

Chowder paused for a moment as a series of Panini-related memories flashed behind his eyes. "...hmm. Yeah." 

"It must have something to do with the punishment," she carried on, determined to solve this mystery. "What could 'eat out' really mean?" 

"...eat out of a dog bowl?" Chowder suggested. 

Panini shook her head. "She's already made him do that before, remember?" 

"Oh yeah…I was there, too." 

"You asked if you could join him," she added, a smile easing its way across her lips. "You looked so cute with your big chubby butt in the air, licking that bowl clean." 

"I was getting into the spirit of it," Chowder said, a bit defensively. "It was really fun, actually. Didn't even feel like a punishment!" 

Panini nodded, coming back to the matter at hand. "Keep thinking. Something else. Something so bad, you wouldn't WANT anyone else to see it." 

Chowder sighed and dug around in his mind for another possible answer. "Uhmm...maybe...she's gonna like...hold a sandwich between her big old butt cheeks...and make him eat it?" 

Panini's face contorted at the thought. "Now you're thinking. What else?" 

Visibly frustrated now, Chowder shook his head. "...you don't think she's gonna make him eat poop, do you?" 

She shook her head. "That's not her style. Keep going." 

With an exasperated popping sound, he let his frustration spill out. "Why are we playing this game? Why is it so important for you to know what Mung's punishment is?" 

"I have to know!" Panini insisted. "Aren't you curious? What punishment could be so bad that she doesn't want anyone else to see what it is? How will I ever know where that line is if we don't try to figure out what she's doing to him?" 

"Then why don't you find out and stop making me guess!" Chowder shouted back, crossing his arms. 

Panini gave him a blank stare. "...what, like...spy on them?" 

"Sure, whatever," he said, brushing it off, "...just stop putting weird, gross ideas in my head! You're tainting my pubescent innocence!" 

Panini glanced up at the plate glass window in the kitchen door above them, then back to Chowder. "...okay. Help me up." 

With a deep sigh of relief, he nodded and got down on all fours beside the door. Panini hoisted herself up on his back and eagerly stood up on tiptoe to peek out the window. 

She remained silent for a moment, then mumbled, "...whoa." 

"What do you see?" Chowder grunted under her weight. 

"...uhm...I don't know how to describe it, exactly…". 

*****

This wasn't working like she'd hoped it would. 

"Come on Mung, don't tell me you've never licked the bowl clean before," Endive scolded. 

Breaching for air like a whale beneath the ocean, Mung blubbered back, "...give me time, woman! There's a lot of bowl here to lick!" 

She snorted. "Well you're sure taking your sweet time. Get on with it, already." 

He shook his head, took a breath and plunged back under, his elegant mustache tickling her thighs and his enormous, bulbous nose rubbing against her thick shag carpet as he tried to swirl his tongue around the rim of her mixing bowl. He thought he'd been doing a pretty good job, but apparently it wasn't enough for her. 

He did have to admit though, this wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. For someone nearly twice his height and over twice his wingspan, he'd expected this would be a lot sweatier and more fungal than he'd be able to handle. Truth be told, under all those clothes, a giant such as Endive was just as normal as anyone else… 

...except maybe for the part where nothing seemed to faze her. 

"Come on Mung, is that really the best you've got?" Her tone sounded not angry, just disappointed. 

Mung resurfaced again with another deep breath. "YOU wanted this, Endive! If it's not good enough for you, then that's just too bad, isn't it?" 

"Hmm," she tapped her cheekbone thoughtfully. 

Mung took the opportunity to wipe a bit of juice from his chin and check for loose carpet on his nose. This seemed to give her an idea. 

"Alright then...let's just call that the warm-up," she said, sliding down in her chairs just a bit further. "Why don't you put that giant schnoz of yours to good use and pop the cake in the oven?" 

He gave her a flabbergasted look in return. "...you...want me to…?" 

She nodded, grinning, and squirted a dollop of lube on the end of his nose. Then, taking hold of what little hair remained on his head, slowly pushed his head back down between her thighs until she couldn't hear him protest any further. 

With an evil chuckle, she pushed him towards her, feeling the nub of his facial phallus rub against her lips. She jostled him back and forth, teasing and pressing him further and further until she felt him enter. With a satisfied hum, she began to slide her hips forward and back. 

Ahh, that was more like it. 

With each thrusting motion, she pulled him further inside her. Every time she felt him slipping back out, she shoved harder, ramming that lump of flesh deeper and deeper to hit that spot. She locked her legs around him, squeezing tight as she bounced up and down on the tip, moaning softly with each hit. 

She thought she could feel him grabbing her thighs and trying to help, but she'd already lost her senses in the moment of release that followed, and closed her eyes as she surrendered herself to the floating sensation of orgasm. 

As she slowly came back down from the high and opened her legs again to push Mung's face back out of her, she wondered if at some point he'd hit orgasm as well, since he seemed to be somewhat limp now. She let his body slump to the floor as she recomposed herself. 

He didn't get up. 

"...Mung?" She prodded him with her foot experimentally. "Get up, you wizened old prune." 

Still no response. 

She leaned forward, dropping her sarcasm. "Mung?" 

Nope. 

"Oh fudge," she whispered, scrambling out of her chairs and squatting down over him. "...did I push him too hard?" 

After another moment of silence, Mung's body quivered and emitted a pathetic sputter. 

"Ugh, thank heaven," Endive muttered and rolled him over on his back with her foot. 

The lube dripping down his nose must have gotten into his eyes, because he appeared to be crying. 

"Oh come on," she bellowed, pulling her underwear back on. "I'm sure it wasn't THAT bad. Sure wasn't for me, anyway…". 

"Don't look at me," Mung mumbled back. "Don't look at my shame." 

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she replied with a sly grin. "That roasted weenie you're sporting is new, though." 

He looked down to acknowledge the wiener, then sniffled and turned his head away. "I can never win, can I?" 

Endive's chest heaved with a loud sigh. "Don't tell me you're having a moment right now…". 

"I've never been a more miserable man than I am today," he wallowed on. "Look at me. Look at my life. I own my own restaurant, I'm married, I've got an apprentice...and yet, here I am. Living in the shadow of your success. Breaking into your restaurant to copy your recipes. And now I'm wrapping my sausage in your flapjacks, too? What kind of man lives that kind of life?" 

Bored, Endive pulled a finger out of her ear and inspected it for earwax. "Hmm, yes, woe is you. Shame, fear, et cetera. I worry what Truffles might do if she ever finds out." 

Drying his eyes, Mung sighed, then sat up and reached for his glasses. "Sometimes...I can't even tell if we're still baking at the same temperature together, her and I. Feels like I can't predict her lately. I have no idea how she'd react…". 

His expression changed and he glared at Endive. "...why, you gonna hold that over me now, too? Keep that little bombshell in your blackmail folder for later?" 

"Of course not," Endive waved him off. "I have better things to do with my time than collect blackmail. Besides, what has Truffles ever done to me? If anyone's going to break her heart, it's certainly not going to be me. I'm sure you'll manage it just fine without me interfering." 

"You're the one that conned ME into this, you know!" he snapped. 

She met his glare with one of her own and fired back. "Takes two slices of bread to make a sandwich, Mung. You sure were quick to fill the order, on your so-called 'chef's honor', whatever that's good for." 

"Well what else do I have going for me, if not my Chef's Honor?" The tears were coming back. "I've already told you, I live in your shadow, I barely make enough money to keep the restaurant running, and I'm afraid my apprentice is going to eat me out of house and home. Honor is the only thing I've got left that no one can take away from me!" 

Endive tsked. "Oh stop being such a baby. You're acting like you haven't accomplished anything in your entire life." 

"Must be pretty easy when you're talking from the top down, Endive," he said, looking at the floor. 

"I've spent my life working just as hard as you do and you know it," she replied, sharply. She paused to take a breath after, not wanting to get any more worked up than she needed to. "We've been business rivals for years now, and if you weren't proud of that, you wouldn't keep trying to beat me." 

Finally, Mung seemed to shut up for a moment as he let the thought cross his mind. He seemed to reach a conclusion that he still wasn't happy with, but grumpily looked over at her just the same. 

"You're still jealous of me?" she scoffed. "Fine, I'll be the bigger man, then." 

Endive stood up and brushed off her dress to look down on the nude, shamed Mung Daal and said, "Mung Daal, you're a great chef. You and your wife own a restaurant with an active apprenticeship. And while I think you're an idiot and can't stand your ridiculous cooking techniques, I respect your bull-headed resolve to stay in business and remain my rival." 

Stunned, he could only stare up at her. This was a side of Endive he'd never expected to see in his life...and he'd certainly seen a few new sides of her today. 

She extended a hand to help him up. Hesitantly, he took it. 

"I...well, Endive, I...thanks, I suppose," was the best he could manage to come up with. "I guess I'm glad to have someone as...well, someone like you as a business rival." 

She rolled her eyes. "Don't expect a hug or anything, just quit getting your gross tears on my linoleum." 

*****

"Well? Whaddya see?" Chowder's voice was starting to crack under the pressure. 

"I…" Panini seemed unable to find the words, and settled for a few strange utterances that almost resembled syllables. 

"Oh no, it was too horrible for words, wasn't it?" He shook his head. "Quick, Panini, you gotta look away! Break the bonds of morbid curiosity and avert your peepers!" 

She couldn't seem to look away. 

Chowder knew exactly what to do. 

"I know exactly what to do," he said. 

And he let himself fall to the ground, toppling in a heap with Panini on top, still stricken with terror, but no longer paralyzed by it. She began to breathe again. 

"What happened?" He asked her, rolling her on to the ground. "What did you see?" 

Her eyes glazed, she mumbled back, "I saw some things, man…". 

"Ya gotta snap out of it!" Chowder said, giving her a shake. 

She continued to babble incoherently. 

"I didn't wanna have to do this…" he said, pulling back his hand. 

And in one fluid motion, as he moved in to slap her on the cheek, Panini's arm automatically shot forward, snatched his hand by the wrist, and she slapped him first with her free hand so hard that he crashed to the floor. 

The sound of flesh being slapped seemed to bring her out of her daze. "...Chowder? You okay, num-nums?" 

He shook it off and gave her a thumbs-up, despite his cheek screaming in pain. 

"Sorry, it's a reflex thing." 

Chowder sat back up. "So, did you see what you wanted to see?" 

Panini shuddered. "Let's not talk about what I saw. Let's just sit here and gaze into each other's eyes longingly." 

"What? Ew, no!" He scratched his head. "What happened to the Panini who just had to see what Endive was doing to Mung just a few seconds ago?" 

"We're not thinking about that anymore," she snapped, pushing the thought away. "We're only thinking about how much we wanna smooch each other all over." 

Chowder frowned. "Something doesn't smell right, and it's not me this time. What's going on, Panini?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" she shouted, crawling over toward him to sit back on top of him. "Let's just talk about all the ways I'm gonna tickle you and stroke your bear-rabbit fur! Why are you making this difficult, Chowder!" 

"Stop shouting!" he shouted back, pushing her back on her rear. "Stay down, demon!" 

Panini finally stopped. 

"Tell me what's wrong, Panini," Chowder demanded, grabbing a spoon off a nearby shelf and holding it arm's length at her heart. "A-and don't try any funny business." 

She seemed to be playing along now. "...I...okay, listen...it's not just about what I saw out there. Or rather, not just what I saw them doing." 

He blinked, but kept his guard. 

"I really don't like thinking about this, but…" she sighed and hung her head. "...what if I'm only flirting with you because I'm just like Miss Endive?" 

Chowder nodded like he completely understood what she was talking about and hoped she bought it. 

"I mean...am I really like, infatuated with you? Or do I just like teasing you because I love getting a reaction out of you when I talk about all the embarrassing mushy romantic things I'm gonna do to you while you're asleep? Y'know?" 

A tiny angel on Chowder's shoulder whispered in his ear: "I think this is one of those important questions where you have to say something in response." 

A tiny devil on his opposite shoulder whispered in reply: "Maybe if you just agree to everything she says, she'll offer you some s'mores or something!" 

"...Chowder?" she prompted. 

He blinked, then came back life. "I think...you should listen to your gut!" He prodded her belly with the spoon for emphasis. 

"...my gut?" 

"It's what chefs do!" he said with a nod. "If the food is bad, then your gut gets all upset and gassy. So you write down what didn't work and then change the recipe until it tastes right and your gut is happy again! Get it?" 

Panini stared blankly back at him, then down at his gut - which, on cue, gave a muted rumble. 

"Speaking of guts," he added, sheepishly, "...any chance we could make a quick snack before they get done with whatever they're doing out there?" 

Panini tried to hold back a snort, but couldn't, and then the snort became a laugh. Chowder laughed too, if only to feel included. 

"...okay, sure," she said, wiping away a tear. "How about s'mores? Those are pretty easy to make, right?" 

"YAY!" 

*****

"So Mung," Endive purred, having watched him get dressed again, "...now that you've had a taste of the main course, I wonder if you'd be willing to recommend it to a friend?" 

"What are you talking about?" Mung asked, buckling his kilt. 

"Your studly janitor friend," she continued. "He's single, isn't he?" 

"Who, Shnitzel? Big, squared off, rocky kinda guy? The man of a thousand words himself? Pah!" 

"I'm only asking," she said with a sniff. 

"Look, if you like putting a stick of cinnamon into your souffle, that's your recipe, whatever floats your gravy boat," he said, tying his shoe. "But Shnitzel's my frie--eh, well...he's my employee! I'm not just gonna hand him over to my business rival!" 

Endive tucked her tube of lipstick back under the brim of her tiny hat. "Can't blame me for trying, can you?" 

Mung harumphed and adjusted his mustache. Things were going to be awkward for the rest of the day, but at least he felt confident he could keep his shame hidden, and that he knew a little more about his most heated rival's personal life than he ever wanted to. All that left was… 

"...oh my lordy, I forgot about Chowder!" 

He raced across Endive's precious linoleum floor toward the kitchen, only hoping the boy was able to fend off the advances of his twisted romance-crazed fiend long enough for him to boldly break down the door and whisk him away to vic-- 

"Afternoon snacks, anyone?" Panini asked politely, stepping out of the kitchen door with Chowder at her side, both holding trays of fresh, melty s'mores. 

"They're marshmellicious!" Chowder added, his mouth already covered in marshmallow goop. 

"You're...fine…?" Mung asked, looking the boy over. "No lipstick smudges, no hickies, no irreconcilable traumas?" 

"Peaches keen!" Chowder replied, always one to mince euphemisms. 

Mung still seemed unconvinced, but shrugged and took a sample from the tray nonetheless. 

"S'mores, eh?" Endive raised an eyebrow and held one up for appraisal. "Hmm...lightweight, economical, seasonally appropriate…". 

She glanced over at Chowder. "...correct skill level…". 

She took a bite. "Excellent work, Panini. You've remembered everything I taught you this week. I'm quite impressed." 

"Thank you, Miss Endive!" Panini replied, looking over at Chowder for but a moment. "Just needed to clear up some of that brain fog I've been having lately." 

"Everyone keeps looking at me like I did something good, so I'm gonna treat myself," Chowder added, oblivious as ever. He tilted his tray up and let the rewards of his kitchen labor slide into his mouth. 

And then everyone had a good chuckle at Chowder's expense and everything was great forever. 

It wasn't, really, but it's okay to pretend it is, once in a while.


End file.
